


Familiarity, not to be confused with Fondness or Attachment

by Palehills



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Other, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Slice of life baby!!!!!!, purely self-indulgent on my part, with a side of super power antics on the side
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29760984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Palehills/pseuds/Palehills
Summary: "The bonds that link you to a true family is not often one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof..."or(A collection of stories about Nadiya, Remy, Irene, and Kardala becoming and staying a family with maybe a dose of superhero antics on the side.)
Relationships: Irene Baker & Chris "Remy" Rembrandt, Irene Baker & Kardala, Irene Baker & Nadiya Jones, Irene Baker & Nadiya Jones & Chris "Remy" Rembrant
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Familiarity, not to be confused with Fondness or Attachment

**Author's Note:**

> So, Hi there!  
> This is like my first written fic in like years, so I might be a little rusty. I've been listening to Commitment for a while and I really miss it!  
> Like a whole lot, there was so much to explore with it and so I guess that's where this comes from???? lmfaooo  
> anyways if there are any inconsistencies in this, pls let me know! I don't really have plot for this, I'm mostly just gonna wing it and se what happens but for now, I hope you enjoy this!!

It was a complete mystery how, even with thorough planning, things always seemed to get away from Nadiya.

Landing a skimmer; easy, gaining transportation; also very easy. Really, the only difficult thing of this entire plan was figuring out the way to the White House. 

Which, of course, none of them has a clue. 

Without a GPS or a credible map, there wasn’t really anything to go on.

So far the only directions they have to go off of is the map they haggled off some poor vendor’s kiosk an hour ago, (half an hour if she’s keeping time right, but it’s hard to tell) and the jumbled vague memory that is Remy’s grade school field trip. (the latter being less useful than the first). Still, despite their odds and the obstacle at hand, the plan was still sailing smooth. 

Then the White House came, and they bid their farewells to the king and consort at the black steel gates, plopped down like a sack of bricks on the sidewalk. Remy left a note on a mustard stained napkin and soon after they’re gone. Raced away as quick as they came, all dust and exhaust smog trailing behind. 

So yeah, everything’s going well, maybe even a little too well. She’s not a very superstitious person, but usually when things like this fall in her favor, something much worse follows. 

So when trouble finally comes knocking after avoiding it for so long, she reminds herself that it’s not a point in the fate of events, but of a point in correlation to it.

Or in Layman’s terms, not jinxing it.

Whatever, she can at least say it wasn’t government though.

Nadiya comes back towards the alleyway wall, gasping, drained of air. Hair frazzled and stinking of soot. 

It all looks very dramatic, perhaps biblical if it were coming from the mouth of their friend. The red-haired one.

Nadiya’s mind is blanking on her face now, too preoccupied with clearing her head. She feels a heavy, dizzying spell come over her. Her breath coming out in heavy puffs, legs tingling with ache, vision swirling. 

There’s the sound of gunshots in her ears; painful, shattering. With how close some came, she half wonders if it had caused any detrimental damage to her ears.

She hopes, but the ringing hasn’t left her. It thrums like a vibration, her whole body chiming like a theremin. She gathers herself at the red brick off side of an alleyway, hands gripping at the crumbling mass. 

Remy coughs up once, then twice, gagging on the smell. He hits the pavement before any of them do, legs folding in like an accordion, and just goes. His fingers curling into the dirt. It would be a disgusting sight to Nadiya if not for concern pooling at the forefront in reaction. Kardala is somewhere, watching the horizon. Her back turned away from them, shoulders rising like dunes. 

When the coast is clear, and their breaths have yielded to a quiet, steadying beat, Remy, whose body sought to the floor, curls against the wall opposite of Nadiya, looks at his two compatriots and says.

“Man, I hope I don’t get like, horse trauma after this.”

Nadiya looks up lazily from the roof of her grimy shoes and peers at the near delirious man in front of her. 

His voice is (no pun intended) hoarse from running, hollowed out where each breath draws a weak rasp or two, but there’s a drop of humor in it. Like he’s telling a poor joke. Nadiya takes him all in; a bruise on the underside of his eye, muddy snot at the base of his nose, blood caked around his jaw where the teeth of a knuckle colliding with his cheek stains maroon in the sunlight.

“What?” She says.

Remy doesn’t answer, doesn’t seem like he can or even try to. His mouth opens once, but it’s coveted by a grueling cough that nearly knocks him over. He tries getting up instead, working his hands against the back of the wall behind him. A scramble, clumsy and fruitless. When that fails, he falls back on his haunches with a huff and another cloud of coughs follows. 

A lump climbs its way to the middle of Nadiya’s throat. Shit. “Remy.”

“Little man?” Kardala’s voice burrows just below a murmur. Even at that it still booms across the alleyway, catching them both off guard. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He says, then another cough. “Just let me work the pollution out my lungs and I’ll get back to you in a sec.”

Dramatic, Nadiya wants to say, grimacing. She tries straightening herself, standing at her full height. One hand that was wrapped around her waist acts like a bridge between herself and the wall as she peels completely off it. “Can you walk?”

“Um, lemme see.” He sticks his tongue out, lets it roll over the split divide of his bottom lip. He looks down at his sneakers, checks his legs. Then, with some effort, tries to get himself off the wall again. It’s another failed attempt, and he goes sliding back where he started. “Yeah, um, doesn’t look like it.” 

Nadiya releases a sigh and drops forward, exhaustion making its presence known among them. It takes a moment for her to position herself close enough to reach Remy. He coughs once in her direction and it takes all her will power combined not to cringe and lean backwards. “How bad is it?” 

“How bad is what? The bruises or the possible concussion I’m sporting?”

“Be serious with me!” She hisses, thumb and middle snapping at attention. No matter the situation, he always seems to make something of a joke. It bothers her in some weird sort of way. Even his voice can’t hide it, though thankfully he listens to her and shushes up. 

Remy kicks his legs towards his chest, lets Nadiya get closer. “Um,” he says, tilting his head back, his chest rising like a bobbing wave. “Pretty bad, I think I may have hurt a rib or something, I don’t know.” 

“Are you sure you can’t walk?” Kardala asks somewhere behind Nadiya. She sounds so close, just a breath of space away, it near startles Nadiya out of concentration. 

Remy peeks his head over the hill of Nadiya’s shoulder. “I, maybe?” 

“Then allow me.” Large hands spring downward, drawing towards them. “If you cannot move or stand, I can carry—.” 

“No, No, hold on, this is fine,” Remy interrupts, his hands push at the ground, working his legs again. “I think I can—” Then he moves, his hands gripping with the intent to further coerce action, if just for a moment. He musters enough strength to move about an inch away from where he started before Nadiya grows frustrated and grabs for his hands. 

“Stop.”

He freezes and looks at her. Legs gone stiff and mouth quiet. Her hands feel weird cupped over his shoulder, foreign, strange, okay she is definitely not used to this. Not at all. But honestly, she’s just tired of this whole push-and-pull. It isn’t getting them anywhere, and she’s not willing to risk spending anymore time in this stupid city any longer than she can watch him struggle.

“Don’t move, you’re clearly hurt.” she says, voice going surgically firm. One hand unclips from Remy, pushing forward. She sends him another glare when he goes to open his mouth again and shuts it close. “And don’t argue, just let it be, okay? Let us help.”

Her brain does the planning, always ten steps ahead. She takes her arm under his back, grimacing at the way the blood clings to her wrists. He’s hurt more than just a rib. 

“We need to get out of here.” Nadiya says like a whisper, urgency bleeding underneath. 

The other two don’t argue, something like a mutual nod between them. And she gathers what weight she can and carries him forward.  


* * *

As luck would have it, or rather lack thereof, they have little of a plan to go off of. 

Nothing as far as running could take them.

Good news was Remy didn’t actually hurt a rib. There were injuries here and there. But nothing that it would otherwise add a dent to the journey, Nadiya had her worries, but thankfully nothing to fret about. She’d really hate having to foot it to a hospital for something that could have been avoidable.

Still back to the trouble at hand, they had yet to devise anything.

Nadiya realizes this when they reach their first stop at a Rita’s Italian ice shop, some breath away from the tight congestion that was the chief city. They’re still in it, somewhere, just a small artery of it, but there’s fewer people here, and less distraction, so it’s a little calming on the nerves. 

“I just think the blood makes for real attractions on us.” Remy says, red ice stains down his chin and hand as he haphazardly tries to contain the juice from dribbling anymore down his arm. “Y’know? We could always try getting rid of it.”

“I don’t see the point. We’d just be wasting more time trying to gain clothes we could spend getting back on the road. It would just add more time to our already long trip.”

“I know that. But, I don’t know if it would incline other people to stay out of our business if we’re dressed like we just fought in a gladiator pit.” Remy says, eyeing a woman and her kid not too far away from them. 

She’s been watching them for the past ten minutes. Brown hair, slim yellow dress, with one hand gripped around the wrist of her child. The mother’s gaze is more out of fear than the red capped boy’s, whose transfixed one sparkles with fascination at Kardala; fastly munching through several cups of gelati. Ice and custard rolls down her throat, juice dripping at the border of her chin in a serpent pool blue stream.

Nadiya sighs, “I guess we could make one stop, but what about our plan?” 

“What plan?”

“Our plan for when we get out of here?” She says, tentatively sipping from a straw of half-melted custard. “We still need to come up with something.” 

Remy fidgets with his cup in hand, then scratches the back of his ear. “Uh, well I didn’t really think of many places, you have any ideas?”

“Truthfully? No.” Nadiya admits. She sets her cup down on her side of the table. Watching with bored amusement as Kardala greedily downs the last of her Italian ice and makes a show of belching, patting her stomach with a laugh. The woman’s eyes at the other table bulges. Unnerved, she hurriedly gathers her child up to leave. “But, I have a place, a lab really. And at some point I would like to return there and get back to work. I’m assuming you have something… similar, too?” 

Remy stares and then goes quiet for a moment. She can’t tell what he’s thinking. His eyes read too far off; almost a little too hard to decipher. Not that she’s actively trying to read that much into him. His fingers tap along the smooth edge of the table, fidgeting, nervous. “I guess. It’s probably a good idea to consider splitting the party up, but won’t that mean we just lose our powers?”

“Kardala is not interested in such a plan.” Kardala’s voice gargles around a slush of custard, like the subsided hum of a motor under water. She drops her cup onto the pile of crushed trash at her end of the table, and wipes at her mouth. “I would much prefer we stick together.” 

Nadiya frowns, expecting this.” Well, what else do you have in mind, then?” 

“I get it,” Remy says, “You don’t want to split up because you don’t wanna lose your ability to be you and to leave the, um, uh, what was it again? Prison?”

“Yes, that is correct.” Kardala nods, confirming.

“Right, but wouldn’t we be better off on our own, anyway?” Nadiya glances between Remy and Kardala. “Like, if we stick together, it might make it hard for us to move about how we are.”

“Another good point,” Remy looks off to the side. 

Kardala gets up from her seat, the whole table rattling loud enough to shake both persons and half eaten gelati alike as she levels eyes with them and frowns. Bushy eyebrows twitching. “No, I do not agree. We are better as we are then alone. I cannot trust that being apart from you will keep me out of the prison. This power, it binds the three of us to one another. And so I believe splitting our number would be foolish. We should stick together, that is my reasoning.” 

“And it’s a pretty solid reasoning too.” Remy grants, “Looks like we’re stuck on what we should do.”

Nadiya places her cup down and thinks to herself. It was better to have all three of them together, she’ll give them that. Despite the attention they drove from outsiders thanks to the goddess, it was easier to fend off attackers. And so far, as this trip went, they seemed to do pretty well on their own. She couldn’t see anything wrong with it. 

“I suppose, we could make this work. But,” She stops and overlooks their faces, sinks her stare like a shovel at their eyes for honest confirmation. “Is that really what you want? You’re sure of it.”

“Hell, I’m down.” Remy leans, arms folding behind his head in a mock stretch, then smiles. ”I had my reasons before, but I’ve decided that sure, why not? We’re pretty unstoppable as we are now, why split that up.”

“Kardala agrees with that statement.” Kardala nods, affirmative. “She and I both agree that this decision would be best.”

“Wait, she?” Nadiya’s brows go up, at the same time as Remy’s, who freezes and looks over bewildered at Kardala. “Are you talking about—”

“Irene?!” Remy finishes, the look on his face is so comically baffled, like a shitty Jim Carrey imitation, all raised brow and wild eyes. “She’s—you can hear her? Can she speak?”

Kardala fixes to open her mouth, but stops and shakes her head. “It is not something to concern about. I have…” She makes quick glances at the parking lot. “Forget that I said anything.” 

“Wait, what—”

“Come, I fear we have been here long enough, we should go.” Kardala steps away from the table, eyes held forward, away from them.

“But what about—”

“I shall see you both at the iron vehicle.” She says and walks on toward their shared car a few meters away. 

Remy and Nadiya stay back, watching her go. The shock comes at a pass quicker for Nadiya than Remy. He stands halfway out of his seat; then turns and looks back at Nadiya, confusion pressed at the forefront. “What the fuck?” He mouths and Nadiya just shrugs.

“I don’t quite understand it either, but we can ask about it on a later day.” She collects the rest of their trash together and stands up. Careful to wipe away any remaining food off her lips with a napkin and moves to grab the keys off the edge of the table. “C’mon Jumpboy, we’ve got a long road ahead of us.”

* * *

  


They take their next course of action in steps.

Step one: Get out of the city. 

They take the narrow path; a back bumpy road sliced from the same interstate limb will do. Nadiya has always hated traffic, so this way they can avoid the hassle and keep their necks out of trouble.

Step two: Find a place to rest. 

They’ve been passing by, state by state, road by lonely long road for hours now. 

The first place they find is some grimy backwater motel off the shoulder of Iowa. Molding and some bricks scatter across the pavement. 

They pay for a two bedded room and call it in for the night. Nadiya takes the right and Remy the left. Kardala, as they come to realize, is far too big to lie in either, so the floor is good for now.

Step three and four: Shower and then get food.

Nadiya feels the lethargic call of sleep paw at her as she sits on the edge of her bed. Even after the first successful shower of the week, she still stinks of grime and dirt. Like the grit of their past battles won’t wipe away. It would infuriate her more if hunger wasn’t another pressing matter. Speaking of which—

She turns to look at the clock on the nightstand. The green number on the block reads a quarter past seven. 

Remy is rifling through a grocery bag full of travel size toiletries when she glances his way. “We got anymore nature bars?”

He stops his rummaging. “Nah, Kardala got the last one, remember? All the snacks we had got ate up.” 

Great, so they have nothing. Just wonderful. She releases a half-irritated sigh and stands up. “Well, that poses yet another dilemma. One of us is going to have to go get food.” 

“I kinda figured that. There were a couple of restaurants we pass by on the way here. I saw one that looked pretty good but—”

“Cool, thanks for volunteering.” Nadiya is making her way to the restroom. 

“Wait, what?” Remy turns with a bar of Dove soap in hand. “But I didn’t—”

“Is little man going to get food?” Kardala asks. She also stands and glances at Remy with interest. “I too, wish to come along.” 

“I don't really think that’s a very good idea.”

But Kardala is already making her way towards the door, her long white cloak billowing behind her as she practically throws the door to the room open. “It has been an age since I’ve last eaten—”

“It’s only been an hour, though.” 

“—And I have grown even more famished with the need for sustenance.”

“I just don’t think, wouldn’t you rather stay here?” Remy’s brain feels scrambled, trying to gain a hold of the situation he now finds himself in. He looks after Nadiya by the bathroom, as helpless as a kitten up a tree. 

“As long as you bring back something edible, I really don’t care.” Nadiya says. A part of her doesn’t really feel like dealing with anything else tonight. Wanting to be alone for the time being, or at least for another hour. She picks up her toothbrush from the plastic cup by the sink and flashes him a peace sign. “Be quick about it.”

Remy lets out a sigh at the same time Kardala laughs. Great.

Resigned to his fate, he goes to grab one of the motel keys off the dresser and slip on his shoes. They’re out the door in record time.

* * *

Bertinelli’s Pizzeria is relatively quiet and brightly lit. 

It’s one of those homely family-owned restaurants; with low ambient music and the waft of spices in the air. A very cozy and vibrant place with picture frames on every wall, and Remy is quietly trying to calm a very perturbed Irene from a mental (and emotional) crisis.

“Are you sure you don’t need a few more minutes?” a server, no older than twenty, stands by the table. She has on that safe “happy” platitude smile, looking at Remy but every so often her glance strays towards the blubbering woman to her left. “I can always come back.”

Remy has one hand wrapped over Irene’s empty one, rubbing circles into the skin as she keens and sobs noisily into a napkin. He shrivels under the attention their table’s getting; there’s hardly anybody left in this restaurant that isn’t giving them weird looks. 

The menu sits under his arm. “Um,” he says, “No, we’ll just order, uh,” He makes a grab at it with one hand, flies through the pages, more or less scrambling. “One large pizza to go and, uh,” He looks over. “You want any appetizers? They’ve got some sliders here, uh, breaded chicken… cheeseburger, um. Maybe a drink?”

Irene’s dabbing her eyes, sniffles and oh god, her eyes look red. “Okay, um yeah we’ll just go with that, and some tea, please.”

He gives the order and the server scampers off. “Hey, Irene, hey. It’s okay… Come on, it’s not that bad, is it?”

She’s blowing her nose into what may be their table’s last and only napkin left. A pile of them sits by her elbow as she takes in sharp breaths of air. “I just,” she says, then breathes, closes her eyes shut. “I just…” then another blow, this time louder, and shuts down, completely slumped in her seat.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know, and it’s hard to digest.” Remy’s voice is soft, like a person talking down a skittish animal. He squeezes Irene’s hand, smile placid. “But it’s going to be okay.”

A few minutes later, the server comes back with drinks. He asks for a few more napkins. 

It’s nice and cold, going down his throat, unsweetened. He grabs four packets of sugar and tosses it all in one collective swoop. “You want any sugar for yours?”

She sniffles and tucks the napkin into the used pile, shoulders stiff. “No, I’m more of a honey person.” she says, “Can’t use much sugar.”

"You drink honey with yours?”

“Yeah”, Irene’s voice is so high and wobbly, like she’s a skip and beat away from tearing open the dam. It makes his hand itch to reach forward. “I’ve always preferred it, seemed healthier that way, but I wouldn’t know.”

That’s genuinely surprising. “Huh, I, didn’t know that.”

Irene lets out a husked laugh, “Of course you didn’t, why would you? We haven’t spoken a word to each other since, since.” she stops, a hiccup follows, then. “My god, I can’t even remember the last time we spoke, it’s been that long.”

“Well, figuring into what’s happened so far, we’re kinda sailing in the same boat.” If he really tries remembering much, he’d find the one half that he remembers, and the one half he vaguely remembers, has blurred a bit since the trips began. Some details stick out more than others. But really, everything’s been upside down and backwards since they knocked the King off his proverbial throne.

“I definitely can say some parts are blurring, though.” He says, “Between the king and dropping him off, DC and hot-wiring a car…”

Irene mouths out a ‘what’, incredulous.

“Though, I can’t remember if that was after we got chased by police or shot at.” 

“WHAT?” Irene shoots forward in her seat, palms flat on the table. 

The outburst is so loud it clambers over the overhead speakers playing music. Naturally drawing heads their way, Irene shrinks, scolded by her own embarrassment, and sits back down. 

“It was only one time and not that bad,” Remy points out.

“Not bad,” she says, and giggles, near hysterical. 

“No, let me explain, okay? Let me explain.” He takes a sip from his tea, clears his throat. “We made a stop somewhere, some dip-shit got a little aggro with Dala, something about a robot horse I think we ran by a carnival, and there was a fight. She punched it. Yada, Yada, then the cops came, and we had to dip and that’s about it.”

Her expression goes blank for a moment as Remy watches. It seems like something Irene should respond to at some level, but she’s deathly quiet now; staring off into space. 

When he thinks he’s said something wrong and goes to ask, Irene staggers back and flops like a sack of sugar into her seat, the table rattling loud as she goes. Remy watches the way her eyes scrunch together shut, the way her body freezes; breath coming out in a stutter. She chokes up once and pushes her face into her hands.

He already knows what’s coming. “Aw, Irene, hey…”

“I just…”, she says, muffled by the folded sleeve of her shirt. It’s the most she gets out before another round of hiccups follow.

Remy has rounded the booth and braced an arm around Irene, rubbing the shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re gonna be alright.”

Remy’s trying his best here, no, he really is. It’s not much, and he knows it, more in tune with his less than socially inclined skills than others. And he may not be a complete aficionado in the art of consoling those with their problems, but he can safely say he’s at least intermediate. Which is more than he can say for anybody else.

He’s almost glad it was him sent on this food trip and not Nadiya. He can’t imagine how she’d handle this. 

Not that he doesn’t care, because he absolutely does, and this is Irene. Someone he hasn’t seen since… god, _how long has it been?_ A week? Two? He goes to check his phone reflexively but—oh yeah; he doesn’t have a phone.

The appetizers finally come, and the server refills his cup. Irene’s remains untouched and gives Remy a head’s up on the pizza; they should be here soon.

He heads back to his side of the booth, picks up a slider, and they’re quiet for a moment. “Do you wanna try some?”, he offers.

She looks at the plate in front of them, “I’m good.” Then, five minutes later, she looks back. There’s a particular scrunch to her face, some kind of internal conflict going on. “Sure.” 

He passes her two chicken sliders on a plate, and she gnaws on it, taking small bites. 

Remy knocks out his plate and slurps down the rest of his tea. “So,” he begins, “How are you feeling?”

“Not that great.” Irene mumbles around her slider. In the time it took Remy to finish, she’s only eaten half. Her tears have stopped, though, which seems like progress. 

“I figured.”

“Remy, what are we even doing?”

“You want the good answer or the bad answer?” he says, putting the drink down. 

She gives him an exhausted look.

Okay, good answer it is. “To be honest, I, we, don’t really have much of a clue. I mean for me, I definitely don’t and Nadiya said she’d work one out, but as of right now, we’ve got nothing. Kardala said she wanted us to stick together. Thinks we’re better off that way. But I think that’s because of her being—” He makes vague gestures with his hands, putting four fingers together to make a horizontal diamond. “—connected to us. She said something about you though, which I’ve been curious about ever since, um.” 

Irene blinks. “Something about me?”

“Yeah, she said that you also wanted to stick with us, or that you agreed to it. Which sort of implies you and her can communicate? Or that she can hear you somehow? And I don’t really know what that means exactly, but maybe you do. Can you actually talk to her in there?”

Irene sets her slider down. She’s got this weird look on her face. Distant. “I, I don’t know, maybe? I haven’t. You have to understand, Remy, this is all very new to me. Everything about this, all of this is, I, I don’t, I don’t know.” 

Okay. Not the answer he was expecting, but it’s also not not an answer. He supposes he can live with that. “Alright.”

They finished what food they can, before the pizza arrives in a box. Remy thanks and tips the server and they grab boxes for the sliders they don’t eat.

* * *

“DEMON, WE HAVE RETURNED!” 

Nadiya looks up from the book she was just reading. 

Kardala walks in with half a slider in her mouth, another in her hand and an open box of food in the other. She swallows the first before tearing into the second. Meat and bread spittle with every chew. Behind her, Remy’s setting down the box of pizza on the table.

“It’s about time.” Nadiya stands to her full height to stretch. “What took you so long?” 

“Nothing,” Remy answers, automatic. “Just a long wait time.”

“Really?” she says, walking towards the table to get a closer look. Pepperoni and cheese, not a bad pick. “That’s it?”

He pulls a slice out the box and bites a piece off, turning to her. “Yep.”

“We have also acquired more sliders!” Kardala sits down on the floor in front of the TV, eyes glowing dimly in the light. 

“Seems we’ve got a bit of everything.” Nadiya half mumbles to herself, but doesn’t complain any further. She’s just happy they actually brought back a meal. She takes a plate and a napkin and gets herself two slices before heading towards the bed. 

Remy stays behind, back to her, eating his fill before hopping over and jumping into his bed. Shoes kicked off and lands face-first into a pillow. He gets comfortable enough, trying to relax, it’s been a long day. He could use the sleep, but something keeps bothering him.

“Hey Nadiya,” The look he receives is none too pleasant from her, but he ignores it, he wonders just when he’s grown adapted to that—the looks they give each other. “Are you alright?”

The pause of silence that follows that question makes him glance over, she’s sitting on the bed, pizza slice dripping in hand. “What?”

“I mean, are you all good? I know we haven’t gotten the chance to talk about it, but, I figured since we’re here we could, I don’t know.” He scratches the back of his ear, suddenly nervous. 

Nadiya stares for a few moments, brows furrowed in that perfect arc the way they get when she’s scrutinizing something. She looks so analytical in the dim lamplight. Then her nose wrinkles. “Just, go to sleep, Christopher.”

She turns back and continues to eat, eyes at the TV, and Remy sighs.

It was worth a shot; there weren’t much to expect, not from someone like Nadiya. But it’s still an answer, and it’s also not not an answer.

Whatever, maybe they’ll talk about it on a later day. When they’re not so worried about what to do. Remy turns over in his bed, fluffs his pillow and lays down to sleep.


End file.
